


Or Something

by starbuckmeggie



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Afternoon delight, Election Day Part 1, F/M, Sexy Times, hotel room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 16:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20781350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuckmeggie/pseuds/starbuckmeggie
Summary: Josh and Donna go for a walk or something on Election Day.





	Or Something

The door clicks shut and I push Donna against it with a thud. Her eyes widen a bit in surprise but a smile almost simultaneously spreads across her face. I blink a couple of times, stunned that she’s in my room again. The bright Texas sunlight washes over her, making her glow. Her hand cups my cheek and pulls me in, our lips meeting in a slightly frantic kiss.

This is a thing we do now, I guess. I’m still a little baffled by it all. After our strange encounter in the very early hours this morning, not to mention my awkward comment about the walk of shame a few hours ago, I was positive that sleeping with Donna last night was the only chance I was going to get. It certainly doesn’t help that I accused her of trying to sneak out in the middle of the night. I’ve really been scoring points all over the place, now that I think about it. Every single thing I’ve done since waking up at three in the morning has been the act of an idiotic man-child who has no idea how to behave around a woman post-sex. It’s been awkward as hell but I _am_ adult enough to admit that’s been my fault. I’m sure part of it is because I’m so blown away by the fact that this is happening with Donna. I’m not suave on a good day.

Against all odds, though, she put the moves on me. _Again_. I gave a weak-ass attempt at flirting while looking through numbers, but it took me far too long to catch on to what she was saying when she mentioned taking a walk. I’m not used to it from her. I’m not _prepared_ for it from her. I certainly wasn’t prepared to be propositioned in the middle of Election Day.

The only thing I have going for me is that I didn’t let the moment slip through my fingers. I immediately dropped what I was doing and followed her down the hall to the elevator. I like to think I did it in a manner that very casual and cool, but I’m fairly certain I looked like an over-excited puppy chasing after a butterfly. In my defense, it’s been a really long time since I had sex, never mind sex twice in about twelve hours. Plus, you know…it’s _Donna_. We’ve only done it the once but it was fairly spectacular. I didn’t want to let her get away.

Her arms wrap around me and I groan into her mouth, snapped back to the present. I grab at her jacket, shoving it down her arms before tossing it over my shoulder into the room. One of my hands slides roughly down her body until I get to her thigh. I give it a tug and she responds immediately, hitching it over my hip. I press myself into her and she makes a little noise; I’m sure there’s little doubt that I’m extraordinarily turned on right now.

Her leg tightens over mine and I feel her lift onto tiptoe with the other foot, pushing closer to me. I have a brief moment where I imagine us having sex like this, pressed up against the door, me probably supporting most if not all of her weight before reality comes crashing down on me. I’d most likely drop her. I’m too out of practice…not that sexual acrobatics were ever my forte.

Still, just a few more moments of this, of our bodies pressed against each other, rubbing against each other, making me feel like I’m on fire. I kiss her hungrily, not bothering to come up for air, taking in short gasps only to keep myself from passing out.

She shifts again, lowering herself to the ground, and I let go of her leg. As soon as she’s standing on both feet, I tighten my hold on her and maneuver us into the room. I feel her fingers fumbling with my shirt, pulling open the buttons with nimble fingers. I grab the hem of her sweater, bunching it up under her armpits until she lifts her arms, letting me yank it over her head and drop it to the floor. I let out a shaky breath at the sight of her in her bra, my hands trailing reverently down her sides, just barely grazing the sides of her breasts. She pauses for just a second before pushing at my shirt, effectively dislodging my hands. I toss the shirt on the bed, my hands finding their way back to her waist. I try not to be a letch but my eyes immediately return to her chest. To be honest, I didn’t get the best look at it or even most of her last night. The ambient lighting was great for setting a mood but not much else.

I lean in, kissing her neck while my hands roam over her back. She shudders just a little, and I feel her fingers tugging at my belt buckle suddenly, working it loose a moment later. She moves to the button on my pants, making me shiver from head to toe. I grab for her pants, too, managing to get them unbuttoned, unzipped, and shoved down her hips before she can finish mine. She lifts her head, dislodging my lips, arching an eyebrow at me. I try to give her my most charming grin in return, hoping to make up for the fact that I’m ridiculously overeager right now. Fortunately, she looks more amused than anything else, managing to shove my pants down my legs, too. I wrap my arms around her, marveling at all of her skin pressed against mine, and kiss her again, trying to steer us toward the bed.

Half a second later, we both nearly go crashing to the ground, jerking apart in surprise. We look down and I sigh in frustration—our pants are hung up around our ankles, trapped by our shoes. She laughs quietly, looking up at me through a curtain of blonde hair, and I just shake my head. I give her a quick kiss before pulling away and turning around, hoping that she won’t see me as I try to untangle my pants and yank off my shoes at the same time. I hop around to the other side of the bed, finally managing to get myself down to only my boxers. I pull my Blackberry out of my pants pocket at the last second and put it on the nightstand, though I’m not entirely sure why. I turn to pull down the blankets—determined to do this properly this time—when I catch sight of Donna. The sunlight’s hitting her full-on now as she stands with her back to me while she shakes out her pants. My breath catches in my throat. I really didn’t get to see any of this last night—the clearest view I got of her was when I found her pulling on her clothes in the bathroom early this morning. I chuckle silently when I watch her arm stretch out, placing her own cell phone on the other nightstand.

All told, she’s fairly magnificent, and that’s just from the back.

Her pale skin stretches on forever, interrupted only by the back of her black lace bra and her—God help me—matching black lace thong. _A thong_. I have no idea why I’m suddenly losing my mind over her underwear when I’ve already seen her naked and am about to see her naked again other than it’s sexy as hell. I don’t know if she did, but I like to imagine that she put this stuff on with me in mind, with the thought that I might see it at some point today. Just the idea of it causes me to harden painfully, nearly making me drop to my knees.

I must make a noise of some sort because she turns around suddenly, tossing her pants onto the bed. Her eyes widen—probably because I’m staring at her like a perverted lunatic—and she crosses her arms over herself, actively avoiding my gaze. I didn’t mean to make her feel self-conscious but...damn. She’s hot. And the way she has her arms crossed kind of pushes her breasts together, causing them to strain against the dark material.

I swear I have to be drooling.

She clears her throat and unravels her arms, returning her gaze to me. She still looks ever-so-slightly nervous, but I chalk that up to us not having done this much before. We’ve known each other for such a long time that throwing sex and nudity into the mix _now_ is bound to make us feel a little out of sorts. I also don’t want to ogle her but…I kind of can’t help but ogle her. I’m sure someone staring at her the way I’m staring at her makes her feel at least a little uncomfortable, but there’s literally nothing I can do to stop myself right now.

“Donna,” I whisper, my voice choked. I cringe, clearing my throat as well. “C’mere.” She licks her lips but moves around the foot of the bed. I would have gone to her but, quite frankly, I don’t trust my legs to support me enough to get there.

Once in front of me, she takes a deep breath and pulls herself up to her full, considerable height. She straightens her shoulders, making her breasts jut out even more, and I whimper just a little as they push against the black lace. I can see her mouth quirk up at the corner and I can’t say as I blame her. I’m sure all of my reactions are downright comical right now. The thing is, the events of last night are coming back to me in blinding clarity. Unlike this morning, when I felt uneasy and unsure of how to navigate this whole thing, all I can think about is how unbelievable last night truly was. Touching her, seeing her, kissing her, slowly removing her layers until there was nothing between us…it was mind-blowing. And here she is again. I don’t have to imagine anything. I don’t have to use last night as fuel for fantasies for years to come because at least—_at least_—we’ll have this time, too.

I reach out, running my hands down her arms, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze when I get to them. A smile starts to spread out across her face. I give her a gentle nudge and she turns, making me whimper as I get an up close view of the thong. I run a finger over the waist of her underwear, completely fascinated by this scrap of material that leaves little to the imagination but still makes me fantasize about what’s underneath.

“I guess you like it.”

Her soft voice breaks me out of my trance, but all I do is slide both hands over her, exploring the contrast of her soft skin and the rough lace. “Yeah,” I answer in a strange, strangled drawl. “So, uh…you wear something like this… a lot?”

She shrugs, looking over her shoulder at me. “Sometimes. Usually with pants more often than anything else. Do you...is the…is one better than the other?”

“Hmm?” I ask, distracted once more by the amount of her that’s available to me.

“Do you like thongs better than the other stuff?”

“I like seeing you _in it_, that’s all I know.”

She chuckles and turns around, and my hazy brain starts to compute the question she just asked me. Was she asking in a purely conversational way, or was she asking for my preference in regards to _her_? If I like one more than the other, is she offering to wear that for me? Because right now, so I’m amazed that I’ve gotten to see her in her underwear twice in the last twenty-four hours that I really don’t care as long as she’s willing to let me see her at all.

I swallow heavily when we’re face to face again. She really is stunning. How did I manage all these years without doing this with Donna?

Reaching out, I slide my hands around her waist, pulling her flush against me. She lets out a little squeak as she makes contact, no doubt my erection poking her in the stomach. I can’t help but shudder a little, too. A million more details from last night are flooding through me right now—the taste of her skin, the feel of her hands on me, the warmth inside her body. Part of me—most of me—wants to throw her down on the bed and bury myself in her right now, to hell with foreplay.

Of course…the rest of that stuff was pretty good, too. Being able to touch her, exploring her body, seeing how she reacts…I don’t want to miss any of that, either.

I make a noise of some sort and press my mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily. Her arms slide around my shoulders, pulling me closer to her, trapping my erection between us fully. I hiss a little, the sensation intense, but then she starts to push against me, her body rubbing me through the material of my boxers. I nearly come undone. Right then and there. Like a fourteen year old boy.

With significant effort on my part, I all but throw us onto the bed, our lips parting as the mattress bounces a little when we land. She pushes away from me, causing a few moments of panic, until I realize she’s just maneuvering herself to the head of the bed. I chase after her, wasting no time in wrapping my arms around her again. She turns into me a little so we’re almost facing each other and gives me a small smile. All I can do is kiss her again.

My hands slide over her back, trailing across her soft skin, only to be interrupted by her bra. I make a noise and start to fumble with the clasp, wondering if it’ll be like last night when she pulled away from me the first time I tried to do that. It actually makes me pause for a few seconds. She doesn’t stop me, though; she just continues to kiss me as if her life depends on it. I’m fairly certain mine does at this point.

I feel the clasp give, her bra coming loose, and I pull back somewhat reluctantly, pulling the scrap of material with me. I toss it over my shoulder, staring down at Donna’s bare chest, slack jawed. In fairness, I’ve only gotten to do this once before and, again, the lighting wasn’t all that great. Now, the bright midday sun washes over her, giving me a spectacular view of anything I might have missed last night. I bring my hand up, running my fingers reverently down her breast. I can actually feel her nipple harden beneath my touch and it nearly does me in. I roll it between my fingers—gently because I sure as hell don’t want to hurt her—and marvel at the deep pink color of it. Without conscious thought, I lower my mouth to her breast, pulling her nipple in between my teeth. She gasps in response, her hand going to the back of my head, holding me close.

I completely lose myself for a while. Despite everything going on around us, my entire world focuses in on Donna. Maybe it’s the novelty of being here with her, or just of having sex in the middle of the day. Maybe it’s a way to change my focus from numbers and electoral maps. Maybe it’s just because I’ve fantasized about this woman for years and now I actually get to be with her. All at her request. I don’t even really care at this point; I just know that she’s in my hotel room, in my bed, a willing, active participant in at least a dozen of my fantasies come to life. I don’t want to take it for granted.

I slide an arm under her to pull her close; my other hand goes to her breast, groping her as gently as I can. I can hear her heavy breathing. Her chest is moving rapidly, responding to my ministrations. Her hips undulate slowly, pushing against mine.

My hand releases her breast, sliding slowly down her sternum and to her stomach. Her breath hitches and I circle her bellybutton, somehow utterly fascinated by it. I feel her stomach muscles twitch. I trace my fingers across the top edge of her underwear, debating internally for a few long moments if I should go for it or not. This is all still so new between us. I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but it’s been my experience that women really enjoy and often need foreplay. I’d like to get her as primed as possible before jumping right to the main event.

I push against her hip, shifting her onto her back. I readjust my mouth on her nipple so I can watch her face. She blinks at me hazily, her eyes dark and a little unfocussed. My fingers make their way under the edge of her thong, sliding across her center. She gasps, her hips lifting off the bed for a second, making me feel confident in my decision. I brush the tips of my fingers over her, keeping my touch light, but she whimpers all the same. The sound shoots straight to my ego.

I move to her other breast, realizing I’ve been neglecting it—though this angle doesn’t offer me the view of her face the first one did—and stroke my fingers over her a little more confidently. I feel her legs fall open, granting me more access, and I slowly push one finger into her. I’m not sure which of us groans louder. She feels even more amazing than she did last night. It’s so _hot_ inside of her and she’s so unbelievably wet. Part of me wants to just go for it, to see how fast I can bring her to orgasm, to see if it’s different than last night, to see if I can make her come this way then again during sex. But I also want to savor this moment. I want to revel in the feel of her around me, to know that she’s already incredibly turned on and to see if I can turn her on even more. At the moment, we’ve got nothing but time. It’s still early in the day, there’s still a lot of time left to vote, we have people everywhere prepared for every eventuality, doing whatever they can to get voters to the polls. Right now, as far as the campaign is concerned, I’m superfluous.

Donna sighs and shifts, her hips pushing into my touch, and I can’t help but grin a little. I’m not superfluous here, not in this moment. I slide up her a little, capturing her lips. She makes another noise but her hand goes to the back of my head, holding me tight.

I do my best to tease her, running the tips of my fingers over her sensitive flesh to make her jump and moan, dipping my fingers into her scorching depths every so often to make sure she’s still good and, well, because she’s letting me. The desire to just go at it as hard and fast as I can is strong; I want nothing more than to lose myself in her body for a little while. But, the desire to do this right for her is somehow stronger. We’re not at a point where we can just dive into sex and have it be good for both of us. If she’s willing to sneak away in the middle of the day to have sex with me, I want to make sure she never regrets it.

She moans into my mouth and I realize I’ve trapped a couple of fingers inside of her, thrusting shallowly but steadily, searching for that elusive G spot. I don’t think I’ve found hers yet but she seems to like what I’m doing regardless.

“Oh, God, Josh,” she whispers against my lips, pushing her hips against my ministrations, the palm of my hand providing pressure to her bundle of nerves. It’s only at that moment that I start to become aware of how much my own body actually aches for her right now. I’ve been so focused on taking care of her needs that my own became secondary, but now that I’m aware of them, I find it’s screaming for relief.

With some reluctance, I remove my hand from her, kissing my way down her body. The smell of her arousal nearly knocks me over and it takes everything in me to not go caveman on her. I want to ravage her, and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to ravage anything in my life. I take deep breaths, hoping to calm myself, but all it does is fill my senses with more of _her_.

I’ve got to get a grip.

I grab the top of her underwear and pull. She lifts her hips for me, helping to get them down her long legs, and I toss them somewhere off to the side. I hear a moan and realize it’s coming from me. Obviously, I didn’t get a really good look at her last night. While the shadows and faint light added a lot to the atmosphere—and probably made the whole thing just a little easier to manage, particularly in my sex-deprived state—it sort of kept a lot of things shrouded in mystery. Now, though…God help me. I can see every inch of her. Every glorious, glowing inch.

I put my hands on her knees, licking my lips. I _really_ want to go down on her. I have a desperate, primal desire to know what she tastes like. However, seeing as how this is only the second time we’ve been together like this, I don’t know if that’s appropriate. Maybe it’s too intimate. Maybe it’s not even her thing. At any rate, now’s probably not the time to make the attempt.

She shifts a little and I drag my eyes up her body, taking my time in reaching her face. She doesn’t look flustered or embarrassed or anything I might have expected based on her reactions earlier. Instead, her lips are curved into a small smile, like she knows the power she has over me right now. There’s a part of me—my ridiculous, unevolved inner caveman—that wants to deny it somehow, that wants to assert his dominance and let her know who has the upper hand but…hell. Who cares? Who cares if she has complete control over me right now, and who cares that we both know it? I get to have sex with Donna Moss. I’m happy to be her pawn.

I lean down and press my lips to her stomach and work my way back up. I pause at her breasts, paying homage to her nipples again before latching onto her neck. I settle myself half on top of her, shuddering as one of her hands works its way between us and down my shorts. Her touch is so gentle that while it inflames me and makes me harder, it doesn’t catapult me to the edge. As long as I don’t think about it too much. I know that if I let myself spend more than a moment or two on the fact that Donna is the one stroking me, I’ll completely lose control.

With zero grace and finesse, I all but shove my hand between her thighs, eager to touch her again. Before I can get too far in my own head about it, though, she moans, her legs drifting open to accommodate my fingers, her hips rolling in time with my movements. Her grip on me tightens a little, but it only heightens the sensation.

This woman is incredible.

“You’re so sexy,” I mumble into her skin, and I feel her start.

“What?”

“You’re _so_ fucking sexy, Donna,” I answer without real thought, the words tumbling out of me because they’re completely true.

Her motions falter for a few seconds, confusing me. I know I can’t possibly be the first person to tell her she’s sexy. Hell, just the way she came onto me last night was undeniably sexy. The way she propositioned me just a few minutes ago was sexy. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear so sexy it blurs my vision. I’ve seen any number of guys pine after her over the years so I know I’m not alone in this, and I’m sure at least a dozen of them have told her how beautiful and sexy she is. It’s not subjective; she’s empirically gorgeous.

I’d be willing to bet that I haven’t said it to her enough. Hopefully, I can rectify that.

“You have more condoms here, right?” she breathes, arching her body into mine. Whatever made her stumble just a moment ago seems to have disappeared.

“I have a whole goddamn box of them,” I answer, making her laugh. She shifts and pushes me off her, rolling over to the nightstand. I nearly bore holes into the back of her skull to make sure she’s not leaving before I realize she’s just rustling around, searching for the condoms. I shoved them in that drawer last night and entirely forgot they were even there. I’m guessing none of the people who set up shop in the middle of the night in here poked around in that particular location because I’m sure it would have been at least a brief topic of conversation.

She turns back to me, holding up the small packet almost triumphantly. Her eyes glance down my body and I immediately shove my boxers down my legs. She hardly waits for me to unhook them from my feet before she straddles me, sitting just behind my erection. I groan—_loudly_—though I’m not sure if it’s because of the sensation of her body rubbing against mine or just the visual of it. I don’t suppose it matters in the long run, and both of those things are pretty incredible.

She tosses her hair and bites the corner of her lip, a smile starting to spread across her face. Before I can react, I feel her hand on me and she pushes herself closer. My eyes feel like they’re going to explode out of my head as I watch her rock against me. Her head falls back and I hear her moan, and all I can do is stare, hypnotized by the motion of her hips thrusting against me. I can feel myself hardening to the point of explosion and it takes everything I have to hold myself together. If I thought she was anywhere near orgasm, then maybe I could live with the sort of dry hump thing we’ve got happening. Maybe. I’d also need a guarantee that this would happen again for us.

Since I _don’t_ have that, I reach out and grab her wrist, trying to take the condom from her. She stills her motions and nods, taking a shaky breath. I notice then that she’s all sorts of flushed, her body shining gently in the early afternoon sun as sweat starts to collect on her skin. She tears open the little foil packet and all I can do is stare, mesmerized, as she starts to roll the condom down me.

I don’t think I ever realized safety could be quite so sexy.

I reach out, my fingers joining with hers to help her finish putting it on, the act giving me an odd amount of control over myself. Once we make sure it’s properly in place, she grabs onto my erection and lifts her hips. In one smooth, slow motion, she sinks onto me. Her eyes close and her body shudders, and I hear a small noise escape her lips. I haven’t done this enough with her yet to know if the face she’s making is one of pleasure or pain.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice strangled, my mind at war with my body as I try to fight every base instinct I have right now, only grounded because I just don’t know if she’s all right.

She whimpers again, her head dropping back. One of her hands reaches out and I immediately grab on, threading my fingers with hers. She gives my hand a squeeze for a few long moments before her body relaxes. She takes deep breaths; I watch with fascination as her chest heaves.

“Seriously—are you okay?” I manage to ask again, relief coursing through me as she lifts her head up and smiles.

“Just a little too eager,” she answers, running the flat of her hand up my stomach and to my chest, her fingertips tracing over my chest hair.

“Did I hurt—?”

“I’m good,” she interrupts, squeezing my hand that’s still entwined with hers. She rolls her hips over me to prove it, making my eyes nearly roll back in my head as I moan.

“_Jesus_.”

“Are you?”

I open my eyes, glaring at her as best I can, which only makes her giggle. She moves my hand, pinning it over my head with what feels like an alarming amount of strength, but I’m immediately distracted as the angle puts her breasts directly over my face. She lets out a quiet noise, almost like a gasp, and starts to push her hips slowly against mine.

I’m dead. That’s the only explanation for all this. No way in real life do I sneak off with Donna Moss in the middle of Election Day to have sex. All I can figure is that there’s actually an afterlife and I did something really, _really_ right to be rewarded with this.

I’m all but frozen, making her do all the work right now, but it’s only because I’m still partially in shock. I watch the muscles in her stomach and thighs flex and relax as she moves. I feel her fingers trail down my arm until she grabs my wrist, pinning it over my head with the other one. I blink up at her, dazed, and she gives me one of her big, toothy grins. It’s enough to snap me out of my stupor.

I shift a little, bracing my heels on the mattress, thrusting my hips up to meet hers. She gasps a little so I do it again, watching with satisfaction as her eyes fall shut. Her body stretches out over mine, her thighs bracketing my hips, her torso angled just a little away from mine as she holds my arms above my head. I lift my head and nuzzle my face against her breasts, hovering so appealingly above me. She moans quietly as I take one of her nipples into my mouth, only able to hold on for a few seconds as she moves. I push against her hands and she resists for a few moments, tightening her grip on me. I move my hips against her faster and she moans, her hands going slack, and I seize the opportunity. Her body collapses against mine as I grab onto her hips, reveling in the feeling of being so close to her.

I push up against her in steady, almost lazy pace, guiding her hips at the same time. Her eyes open and she smiles at me and I can’t help but grin in response. This seriously feels better than I ever expected; it even feels better than last night and last night was way up there on the awesome scale. We manage to lean in at the same time, pressing our mouths together. She tastes like coffee with just a hint of something sweet—probably some breakfast pastry she’d deny ever eating. I think I could kiss her all day.

My hands slide over to her ass, kneading her flesh gently, and she breaks the kiss, lifting her head as she moans. I tighten my hold on her, guiding her hips to mine a little faster. I want to hear that noise again.

“Josh,” she breathes. “God.” She rolls her hips against mine, tightening herself around me as she moves. I feel my eyes actually cross and my head falls back, pushing into the pillow as I take deep breaths. “_Yes_.”

She pushes herself away from me suddenly, her hands bracing on my shoulders. Our hips feel like they’re fused; I can’t stop thrusting into her. I force my eyes open, the need to see Donna again stronger than the need to control myself, and I’m not disappointed. Her own eyes are closed at the moment, her breasts swaying hypnotically as she moves against me. I lift my head without any conscious thought and trail my lips across one of them, my tongue darting out to taste her salty skin. I can’t get enough of them; I can’t get enough of the fact that she’s letting me. I inhale deeply as I go, intoxicated by the heady smell of _her_. I brace my feet against the bed and push into her frantically, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.

Her hands slide off my shoulders and she sprawls over me again, her face pressed into my neck. “Ohhhhhhh,” she moans, her voice muffled. I tighten my grip on her ass, moving her hips in time with mine. “Oh my _Goooood_. Josh, Josh, Josh, Josh!” Every time she gasps my name, I drive into her harder, which only seems to make her same my name again.

She lifts her head suddenly, pressing her lips to mine, gasping and moaning into my mouth as we thrust against each other. One of her hands finds its way to my head, tugging at my hair in time with our movements. It’s borderline painful, but mostly just sends tingles through my body.

My hand slides up her back, tracing my fingers over her spine. She makes a noise in the back of her throat that almost sounds like a purr. I hold her close to me, trying to maintain as much full-body contact for as long as she’ll let me.

Our lips part, our faces so close that my eyes nearly cross as I try to look at her, and she grins at me. It’s a different smile than I’m used to. I don’t know that predatory is quite the right word, but it’s the closest my sex-addled brain can come up with. It’s the smile of someone who’s thoroughly enjoying herself. I’m assuming I’m giving her the same look.

She sits up suddenly, looming over me like a blonde goddess, giving me a completely unobstructed view. I nearly come undone at the sight. I can see the muscles beneath her skin ripple and flex as she moves. I can see how she reacts when I grab her hips, helping to guide her movements once more. She rocks back and forth, her eyes falling shut as she gasps, one of her hands grasping my forearm for balance, the other sliding slowly up her body until she’s holding her own breast. She moans again, her head falling back at what looks like a completely unconscious movement.

It turns me on in ways I’ve never felt before. My hips speed up in response, watching her fingers flex in time with our motions. I bring my free hand to her stomach, my fingers sliding across her damp skin as we move, trailing down between her thighs. When I finally make contact, her knees jerk almost together and she actually shrieks. She doesn’t tell me to stop—she just moves faster, grinning at me almost sheepishly. I press my fingers against her, trying to remember what she seemed to like last night.

“Oh, Josh, oh, _Josh_, right there, right there, right there,” she gasps, releasing her hold on me and her breast, bracing her hands on my knees. Her hips start moving up and down and I stare, practically drooling at the sight of me disappearing into her over and over and over again.

I close my eyes and clench my teeth, breathing out through my nose. I can feel myself spiraling out of control and I can’t let myself come before I know she’s going to as well. Call it ego, call it pride, call it whatever but it’s important to me that she has an orgasm. If I want the chance to experience this again, I think my odds are better if she comes, and that feels much more likely to happen if I can hold myself off.

“_Ohhhhh,_” she moans, making my eyes snap open. She’s making that face—the one that looks like a cross between pleasure and pain. I’m completely torn; I don’t want to be an asshole and keep going if something’s wrong, but I’m really not sure if I can stop.

“You okay?” I finally manage to ask, my voice breathy as I pant, trying to keep up this pace.

“_Uhhhhhhhh_,” she answers, and I struggle to keep my grasp on reality. “So close.”

I shift both of my hands to her hips and make myself sit up, pressing our bodies close together. Her eyes find mine and she smiles again, leaning in to kiss me. Our bodies slow down for a few moments, moving against each other almost lazily. Her arms wrap around me, one hand going to the back of my neck, keeping me close. Her hips start to move against me a little more forcefully, pushing against me in earnest. My groan is stifled by her mouth, though it still echoes around the room.

“Josh,” she whispers, trying to keep her lips to mine. “Josh. _Josh_.” Her mouth tears away, gasping and panting, her eyes tightly shut. I tighten my grip on her, trying to help her move the way she wants. Her fingers tighten in the hair at the nape of my neck, yanking hard. I wince a little but keep pushing against her.

Her back arches suddenly, her eyes opening wide. Her hips start to move unevenly against me. “_JOSH!_” she yells—actually yells, probably loud enough to draw attention if anyone is in the general vicinity. “Yes! Oh, my God, _YES!_”

Her eyes meet mine again, our gazes locked as she falls apart, her body jerking and writhing. I let her take the lead, letting her do what she needs to for the orgasm to rush through her. Her normally blue-ish eyes are dark and smoky, boring into my soul, probably finding all the things I can normally keep hidden from her. She can’t doubt at this point how much I want her, have always wanted her, have always wanted for things to be like this with us.

We lean in at the same time, our mouth fusing together again, her moans hardly stifled by the kiss. Her body keeps rocking, her orgasm taking control, and I’m so utterly fascinated by it all for a few moments. It really is such a heady sensation for me to be able to do that do a woman. I’m finding it’s even headier being able to do it to Donna.

Her movements slow down a little, her rocking becoming more even, and she sighs into my mouth, sounding utterly content. Before I can bask too much in the moment, she tightens her inner muscles around me. I groan at the sensation, suddenly brought back to the moment and the fact that I’ve been operating in a very precarious situation for some time now.

She smiles and pulls away, pushing at my shoulders. My head tilts in confusion but she carefully guides me back to my prone position. She grabs my hands from her hips, sliding them over her body, biting her lip as she puts them over her breasts. I hold onto her, kneading her soft flesh. She moans just a little, her eyes falling shut for a few seconds.

Her hips roll against mine, moving in some sort of circular motion. I swear my eyes cross. She’s clenching around me, understanding my needs in a way that I’d expect from someone I’d been sleeping with for months or years, not hours. It feels so good that I never want it to end; this build up, the anticipation of climax, feels nearly as good as an orgasm itself.

And once this ends, I don’t know when I’ll have the chance to be with her again. Twice in less than twenty-four hours seems like I’d have pretty good odds of getting to do this at some point in the future, but I don’t know what we are right now. It felt like we’d barely recovered enough to consider each other a friend, though it took little time after that for us talk on the phone all the time, to sit as close as we could to each other on the bus or plane or during meetings, and to finish each other’s thoughts and sentences. Still…I don’t know what this part is. I don’t know if this is just to get us through Election Day or what. If she’s willing, I’d love to be able to do this some more after today.

She leans forward, bracing her hands on my chest much in the same way I’m cupping hers. Her blonde hair hangs like a curtain around her, causing just enough shadows so that I can watch her face. She’s still biting her lip, looking as if she’s enjoying every minute of this. For a few seconds, it makes me just a little jealous of women and their ability to continue having sex after an orgasm; not just to continue it but to enjoy it.

“Donna,” I whisper, unable to say anything more. Nothing else will come out. My breath is starting to get stuck in my throat. The pit of my stomach is starting to tighten. I can feel it all building deep within me, racing toward a conclusion.

She just smiles at me, her hips moving up and down, sliding over my erection, the heat of her suddenly so intense I’m sure we’re going to catch fire. I take my hands of her breasts and wrap them around her. My fingers flex against her and I try desperately not to hold on too hard or bruise her. She drops against me, her elbows next to my head, our faces a breath apart.

“God, Donna,” I gasp again, holding onto her hips as she slams against me. Her tongue darts out, tracing lightly over my lips, the move strangely erotic. She buries her face in my neck, sucking at my skin. She’s probably going to leave a hickey, but I can’t bring myself to care. She moves even faster, pulling me to the edge.

I shudder from head to toe—it’s happening. It’s about to happen. I can feel it.

I groan so loudly it surprises me, most definitely alerting any passersby to what’s going on in here. I vaguely wonder if anyone from the campaign is nearby and giggling over what they can hear coming from my room.

Donna lifts her head again, sending all thoughts of campaigns and rogue staffers out into the ether. She whimpers, breathing heavily, before suddenly pressing her mouth to mine. She thrusts against me a few more times before I feel myself lose control. I grab onto her hips, my back arching off the bed for a few long seconds—I’m vaguely grateful that I don’t send her flying—before I return to my previous position. I thrust wildly, unable to contain myself and the intense orgasm I’m having right now. I’m yelling my release into her mouth; she holds me tightly, riding it out with me.

I finally tear my mouth away, gasping for air. I tense as I feel one last wave crash through me and I actually shout, “Donna! _Fuck—Donna!_” My body finally collapses and I pant, waiting for my brain and my body to sync up again. I feel her arms slide under my shoulders as she kisses my neck. I stroke her damp skin, my hips twitching a few times. My head feels bleary.

Donna lifts her head, her eyes finding mine. She looks about how I feel. She sighs, taking in a deep breath before exhaling in what sounds like a moan. I reach up, brushing her hair over her shoulder, enjoying the way the strands fall through my fingers. She leans forward, pressing her lips to mine, kissing me slowly. She trembles a little and for a few moments, I think it’s the aftershocks of the orgasm. It takes me far too long to realize she’s actually shivering. While she’s not cold to the touch, I can definitely feel the difference from just a few moments ago. One of my hands blindly flops around, looking for the blankets I turned down earlier, but she manages to get there first, the covers appearing in my hand like magic. It takes me longer than it ought to, and I’m definitely stymied by all the kissing, but I eventually get the blankets over her shoulders.

She sighs again, laughing quietly. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“Mmmhmm,” is all I manage to say before I grab the back of her head, pulling her gently back to me. She doesn’t resist, responding eagerly for a few minutes. With no warning, though, she slides off me, situating herself on her back. She pulls the covers under her arms, looking a little warmer than she did a few minutes ago. I blink a few times, my brain trying to catch up to the fact that the whole sex part is actually over. I pull off the condom, disposing of it as carefully as I’m able to in the bin next to the bed, and settle down next to her.

I stretch for a few long moments, my muscles and body tired in a way that it’s not used to. I cross my arms behind my head and let out a sigh of satisfaction. It doesn’t take long before a deafening, awkward silence fills the room. Donna’s right next to me—close enough that I can actually feel her body heat—but we’re not actually touching, and despite our relationship being based almost entirely verbal communication, I suddenly have no idea what to say. I don’t think she does, either. We don’t have the late hour and sleep to bookend the moment.

Shit.

Now what?


End file.
